A Collection of OneShots
by UnofficiallyGlimmer
Summary: Each one-shot is for a different character, for a different series. ;  Enjoy!
1. Rory, from The Hunger Games

He knew his life was going to change when they called Prim's name at the reaping. He knew it would change when Katniss volunteered for her. He expected that nothing would ever be the same with only one of the Everdeen girls.

But he never expected it to change this much.

When Prim's name was called, there was a split second of gut-wrenching fear that froze Rory to the ground. Fear he couldn't name spread throughout his whole body, paralyzing him. A million thoughts had raced through his mind, and it had been almost impossible to sort through them all.

Prim was going into the Games.

The girl he loved.

Prim was going to die.

He would've volunteered for her himself, if that had been allowed. He decided this on the way home. Rory decided that he would do anything humanly possible to keep Prim for the rest of his life. He would do anything, be anything for her. Eventually they would get married, have children, and every day he would be able to tell her how much he loved her.

Well, if only he could get up the courage to tell her himself now.

All of these thoughts had raced through his mind, and suddenly they came to an abrupt stop when Katniss choked out the words, "I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute!"

A whole new torrent of feelings broke inside of him. Relief. Guilt. Pity. Fear. Sadness.

Relief, obviously, because Prim was safe. His love wasn't going anywhere. Guilt, because, in wishing that Prim would live, Katniss was going to die. Pity for Prim and her mother, because they were going to lose not only their only source of income, but another family member as well. Pity for Gale, whom Rory knew was beginning to love Katniss as more than just a friend. Pity for Hazelle, who found another daughter in Katniss. Pity for the rest of District Twelve, who all had benefited at least once from Katniss's fine shooting. And last of all, pity for myself, because I was losing a fun companion, a loving sister, and a caring friend.

Fear for Prim and her mother crossed my mind. How were they going to survive without Katniss's fresh meat? Of course, Gale would split his prey, but that wouldn't be enough. As it was, even Katniss bringing in her own haul wasn't enough! And if Gale gave half of his meat to the Everdeens…then what would we eat? How would we still survive? My mother barely made anything, even with her washing clothes every day and night. And then Katniss, going into the Hunger Games…my fear for her was strong, almost more than for Prim. She would die; our tributes always did, it was expected. One of the Career districts always got one of their tributes back. When they set up their alliances and began making strategies, they must always overlook District Twelve. 'District Twelve? They're so pathetic they'll die on their own.' But maybe this time Katniss would be different. Maybe she would win. Automatically, I made myself push away the thought. I couldn't get my hopes up. I needed to expect the worst, so if it came, I'd be ready. Fear for both of our families was suddenly so overwhelming that I could barely uncover my reasons for relief anymore. A sudden wave of sadness kept me from falling. My precious Prim. How devastated she must be, losing her only sister, virtually the only one in the family that kept her sane, considering the state her mother was in after the death of both of our fathers. How did I know that she wouldn't go mad? Or severely depressed like her mother? How did I know that even though she's safe from the Games, I just might still lose her?

Disregarding the ropes that kept us in our respected age groups, Rory walked to the edge of the crowd, where Prim and her mother were staring up at Katniss with tears running down their faces. He put his arms around her and laid her head against his shoulder. "Prim," he sighed.

Rory's life would forever be different. The moment Claudius Templesmith had congratulated Katniss and Peeta on their victory over the loudspeaker, Prim had jumped into his arms and sobbed in happiness and relief. The two families had been celebrating for five minutes when the small telephone Haymitch had given them after the reaping began to ring.

"Hello?" Mrs. Everdeen had said breathlessly, tears still running down her face. She put the phone on speaker so they could all hear.

Rory had been expecting an excited report from Haymitch, but instead he talked in his usual void-of-emotion voice.

"Katniss and Peeta are supposed to be lovers. However, the Capitol doesn't seem to be entirely convinced that she and Gale are just cousins. You need to fix that when she gets home. Congratulations. Goodbye."

They had all just stared at the phone for a second, until Gale had shouted, much to everyone's amusement, "COUSIN KATNISS IS COMING BACK HOME!"

Everything was wonderful when Katniss came home. Mrs. Everdeen had slipped out of her depression, and Prim was as happy as ever. Eventually, everything had more or less gone back to normal, and Rory was happy to be able to enjoy the joy that leaked out of Prim's voice every time she spoke. Everything was perfect.

Until the second year. The Quarter Quell was coming, and everyone was as excited as they were nervous to see what was going to happen this year. Of course, he was worried that Prim would be reaped again. Would Katniss be allowed to volunteer for her? Has a Victor ever volunteered for someone else? Was that even possible? No. Rory was being selfish again. He couldn't wish for Katniss to go into the Games twice. After all, Prim wasn't signed up for any tesserae, and it's not like they needed any, considering the new income Katniss brought with her from the Games.

Still, it had happened once, it could happen again….NO. He wouldn't even consider the possibility.

When President Snow announced on TV that the tributes would exist from each district's Victors, it didn't sink in at first. Rory never really considered Katniss a _Victor, _but just as Katniss. So of course he was relieved that none of them were going to have to be tributes. But then Katniss ran off, and the realization hit him like a ton of bricks: Katniss was going in again, and this time, would she come back?

The Games were very confusing for Rory. He would see Katniss and her allies talking about the arena as a clock, but he didn't understand. He was able to follow the action and the deaths taking place, but the rest of the conversations and strategies during the Games were all a blur to him. The last thing he remembered was a shower of sparks onscreen, and then a shower of fire out the window.

He woke up in District Thirteen, scared and confused. From the people talking around him, he gathered three things: Katniss had escaped, District Twelve was gone, and the rebellion was in process.

Prim! Rory had sat straight up in his bed. Where was she? Was she alive?

"Prim, Prim!" he had called, running wildly though the infirmary until he ran smack into someone with blonde hair and crystal blue eyes.

"Prim!" he had whispered gratefully, opening his arms to her.

He had asked her, told her, _begged _her not to go with them to the Capitol. They didn't need her; they were going to win, she didn't need to put herself in any more danger…

But Prim wouldn't listen. She wouldn't listen to his desperate cries and pleas for her to stay with him.

Rory was in Command when it happened. He was watching the screens with the rest of them, where he could see the whole circumference around Katniss. He saw his love picking up a crying child. He saw the parachutes falling. He knew what was in them; Gale had explained to him the design. He willed them not to fall. He fell on his knees, and cried, begging them not to fall.

He had tried to save her, but he was too late. The bombs fell, and there was nothing he could do.


	2. Neville, from Harry Potter

Ever since he lost his toad during his first year at Hogwarts, Neville thought he would be the loser of the class, the nerdy kid who always forgot the common room password, who barely passed most of his classes, who always wondered how the bloody hell he had been put in Gryffindor.

But now here he was, standing up to Death Eaters and helping defeat the darkest wizard of all time.

Each year, he had had bursts of bravery, defending his friends or the Gryffindor house. Each year they had gotten bigger and better, but he never dreamed he would be a part of the final duel between Harry Potter and Voldemort.

Hogwarts was out of control with Harry gone and Snape as Headmaster. Even though the students barely saw him outside of Defense Against the Dark Arts class, they could all feel his presence lurking around the castle; from the way Voldemort's followers stalked the halls, giving out terrible punishments for absolutely no reason, to the way everyone walked and ate in silence, with always the same look of terror on their faces.

Neville couldn't stand it. He couldn't stand to see his friends suffering like this; to find refuge only in the homey environment of the Gryffindor common room. But they were getting through it. Every night they got together in the common room, most everyone staying there for the night just to know the feeling of security. Even some people from the other Houses, like Luna Lovegood and Padma Patil from Ravenclaw. The common room was packed every night, but instead of feeling crowded it felt safe and comforting to the students who stayed there.

Neville knew that Harry was doing all he could. He knew that he and the loyal ones at school were doing all they could. But he still felt anxious, like Voldemort was going to attack the school at any given moment, and Harry wouldn't be there. Neville didn't know if the rest of them could hold down the fort until he got there, not even with the help of McGonagall and the rest of the good teachers. Even if they could, Harry wouldn't be able to kill Voldemort without destroying the rest of his Horcruxes first.

Neville was the unofficial leader of the expanded Dumbledore's Army now that Harry was gone, and every night he tried to figure out a new solution to this. Every weekend in the Gryffindor common room, the Army practiced more defensive spells, but could only learn new ones by what they had heard in past classes and if they were lucky, they would find a story of a battle in one of the books in the common room, and spent hours trying to figure out the spells used by or on the attacker in the stories. They worked late into the night, sleeping in shifts so as not to appear tired in class, giving the Death Eaters an unnecessary reason to pry into the Army's studies.

It was during one of these study sessions that everyone began to feel hope for the first time.

They were all chatting quietly, sharing what small bits of information they had found with each other, when the quiet murmurs were interrupted by a tiny whisper, barely even audible.

"Neville Longbottom."

They all turned towards the fireplace and looked up, where a petite girl with long reddish-brown hair and an old-fashioned blue dress stood there, her face a mix of calmness and nervousness.

"Yes?" Neville asked, his face void of emotion.

"Come with me." The girl vanished back into the painting, and the backdrop faded back to black as the frame swept open, revealing the secret passageway behind it.

"I'll be right back," Neville said over his shoulder.

"Surely you don't want to go alone," Luna said in her delicate voice, stepping from the clump of people. "Do you want me to come with you? It could be dangerous."

"No," said Neville. "Stay here with the others. I trust you," he murmured in her ear.

The corners of Luna's mouth turned up in a half-smile. "Be safe."

Neville walked into the dark passageway. The painting closed gently behind him, leaving him in pitch darkness for a moment. "_Lumos," _he muttered, and the small hallway was illuminated with white light. Neville walked the rest of the way, and then pushed open the portrait on the other side of the tunnel, where it swung open to reveal a very battered Harry, Ron, and Hermione standing there.

"Guys! Hey!" Neville greeted them cheerfully. "Thank you for sending her, Mr. Dumbledore," he said, nodding to the elderly man who sat in an overstuffed armchair by a roaring fire.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione followed him to the end of the tunnel, where the rest of Dumbledore's Army cheered when they saw their, particularly Harry's, faces.

Their hope turned to despair in only a few short hours.

Those few moments when Hagrid came into the courtyard carrying Harry's lifeless body were some of the most saddening of Neville's life. Here was one of his closest friends, lying dead after fighting for seven ears. After all the bravery he had instilled in others. After staying strong for so long. It seemed as though all Harry's efforts had been wasted in one flash of green light. And even though Neville was holding back his own tears, he knew he had to be strong as he looked around at the tormented faces of his classmates. He looked at Mrs. Weasley, who was clawing at Mr. Weasley's arm with tears flooding down her face. He saw Ginny stagger a few feet towards the middle of the courtyard, her arm outstretched and her expression looking as if she'd just gotten a limb torn from her body. Not much farther away were Hermione and Ron, Hermione hysterically sobbing into Ron's shoulder; Ron halfheartedly holding her while his eyes stared, unfocused and dazed, at Harry's still body.

Neville knew he had to be strong for everyone. So he made that speech, that great speech about Harry. And then Harry's eyes had opened once more, and he finally knew that he was a true Gryffindor.

_19 years later_

Luna had just become the first witch to prove the existence of knargles, and was working alongside the ever-healthy Hagrid teaching the pupils of Care of Magical Creatures all about them. It had become everyone's favorite subject again once Luna had been added to the faculty.

Neville was the new Herbology teacher, and he couldn't be happier with his job or his wife. The Weasley and Potter kids were easily his best and favorite students, and Hogwarts seemed to be a little bit happier with Professor Sprout as the new Headmistress. Professor McGonagall was still teaching, even as old as she was, and still going strong. In a nutshell, everything was doing great, and Neville could finally remember what his Remembrall was trying to tell him all the way back in his first year: At the end of everything, good or bad, your true friends will still be there.

**Okay I know that thing at the end was terrible but I needed something that said something about his friends! Review Pwease!**


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